


stage lights burn out quickly

by feralyellow



Category: IT, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Beverly Marsh is So Done, Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Bill Denbrough is a Mess, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, M/M, Mike Hanlon Deserves Nice Things, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Richie Tozier Being a Dumbass, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is So Done, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralyellow/pseuds/feralyellow
Summary: Losers club but they're all theatre kids!there won't be an awful lot of angst, but there will be shenanigans and soft moments.modern day au, they do be kinda aged up to senior year tho***“I’m failing a class. And as a result, I need to join the drama club to make up extra credit. Or something.” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, tension rolling of his shoulders.“I’ll join the drama club too. I’ve been wanting to explore a more artistic side of myself, anyway.” Beverly said.“You’ll join with me?” Eddie asked, big brown eyes boring into her own.“Of course! I can’t let the drama kids corrupt you. I’m looking at you, Ben.”“I could never corrupt Eddie!” Ben squawked, face flushing red.“I think I’ll join too.” Mike said from his spot on the floor. “I don’t want to miss out on all of this. I could help build sets, and stuff.”“I guess I’ll have to join to, to keep you losers in line.” Stan said with an eyeroll.“You just ki-ki-kicked Richie.”“That was 5 minutes ago, Bill. Keep up.”The losers dissolved into laughter.***
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	1. eddie kaspbrak is struggling

It was dead silent in history class. Pens and pencils scraped on the work sheets Mr Hover had given out, heads down in concentration. Out of nowhere, the school speaker system came to life, cackling.

“Edward Kaspbrak to the principal’s office. Could Edward Kaspbrak please come to the principal’s office.”

All eyes turned on him. Panic took control of his throat, rendering him mute. He couldn’t breathe. He slowly rose from his seat, afraid his legs wouldn’t hold him. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, never realising that Ben had taken hold of it. Ben offered a reassuring smile to him, then cocked his head to the door. Mike sat on the other side of Ben, mouthing ‘you can do it’, and offered the same smile. Eddie nodded, finding confidence in his friends belief.

_Take one foot, Kaspbrak. There we go. Look, you’re walking! You’re walking to the principals office all by yourself! Maybe it’s good news. You don’t know. Maybe they found a cure for whatever disease you no doubt have. What was the new one mom kept cracking on about? Hantavirus? Whatever that was. Mrs Goode must have found a cure for it, and since mom is so up-to-date with the schools medical system, Mrs Goode wanted to give it to you first! Save you from… from… Hangvirus? Handy virus. Huntravirus. Whatever. You were cured._

“Edward Kaspbrak? Mrs Goode will see you now.” The principal’s assistant chirped, seeming to act far too young for the wrinkles that appeared whenever she made any facial expression. Eddie had no idea what her name was, nor did he care. He was too panicked.

_It’s about a cure, Eddie! Remember that!_

“Now, Eddie, I don’t want you too feel like I’m coming down hard on you.” Mrs Goode said solemnly as Eddie sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

_So this wasn’t about a cure._

“Eddie, you’re… you’re failing calculus. And I know you want to pass this. No one wants a fail on their end of schooling certificate.” Mrs Goode said the words softly, obviously sympathetic, but Eddie was struggling to hear. He’d never failed anything in his life. Sure, he was never top of the class, but he always scrapped by. No matter how hard he tried to get top grades like Richie or Bill, he never had that drive and he would always fly under the radar after every test, assignment, essay, whatever.

Mrs Goode continued, and Eddie realised he just missed a huge portion of what was said.

“- or you could give up track, but I understand that means a lot to you and you’re one of the top runners that Derry High has. Of course, there’s always the option of joining drama club. Mr Luton is always looking for newcomers to assist with the backstage side of things, and I would ensure it gave you enough extra credit to pass calculus. What are your thoughts on that?”

Eddie had only heard two options, and fucking hated the first one. When his mother was being overbearing, or school was getting too much, he would run. Running like that inspired him to be on the track team, and much to everyone’s surprise and his mother’s dismay, he was the star runner after 2 months of joining.

Afraid to admit he wasn’t listening, Eddie took the only other option.

“I guess I’ll join the drama club.”

***

Eddie did not expect to exit Mrs Goode’s room and smack right into Bill. Nor did he expect to be hounded by Richie as soon as he stepped foot into the corridor.

“Eddie! The hell did you do to get called to Goode’s? Should I be proud, or concerned that you’re stealing my bad boy reputation?” Richie flung his arm around Eddie’s shoulder, panting a little, clearly from running. _Why 's he so warm?_

“The only reputation you have is b-b-being an idiot. Is everything ok Eddie?”

Eddie pulled himself away from Richie, ignoring the mock hurt that Richie portrayed, hand held on his heart.

“Well, Bill. I’m not. Apparently I’m failing calculus, which I had no idea was even happening! And now, I’m a part of the drama club, because it was either that or quit the track team which is my only chance of freedom from this shithole, so fuck me, right?”

“Nah, too tired from fucking your mom.” Richie fake yawned dramatically.

“B-b-beep beep, Richie. Do you k-k-know who’s in drama club?” Bill asked, struggling to hide his amusement.

“Knowing my luck, Greta or even Bowers, but it’s probably too” Eddie throws up quotation marks. “‘girly’ for him. Taking a shower is to girly for him. But based on your expression that makes you look like you ate a lemon drop or smelled Richie’s room-” “Hey!” “- You’re gonna burst out and say you’re in the drama club.”

“I’m in the d-d-drama club!” Bill said excitedly, flashing a smile that made his eyes twinkle. Not the Eddie thought about twinkling eyes on a guy. AhahaHAHa.

“Billiam, you’re fucking president of the drama club.” Bill flashes another huge smile, stoked about the idea of having one of his friends join the club. “I’m also in the club, Eds, so if you join, you’ll have to put up with me even more than you already do! Sucker!”

“Oh please, what’s an extra 2 hours or so with you? Just means less time to fuck your mom.” Eddie replied cheekily, already starting to run away. He had no doubt that Richie would run after him, just to land a better insult. Richie might grab Bill, or he might leave Bill there to look dumbfounded, but Eddie could always count on Richie to follow when he ran away. He could always count on Richie to cheer him up, with his stupid jokes and twinkling eyes. Or whatever his eyes did. Not like he paid attention.


	2. beverly marsh has chaotic friends

Beverly always enjoyed the chaotic energy most of her friends brought, but sometimes it was nice to just be. She allowed herself to get lost in the movement of the hammock in the club house, her ears being treated to the soft sounds of Mike playing guitar and singing along. Mike always surprised her, and she was damn glad that she could call him her friend.

Ben and Stan sat across from him, leaning on each other’s back for support. Ben was slowly scribbling words down in his notebook, one Bev got for him. He seemed content, happy in his own world. Enticingly charming, but not that Bev thought about Ben like that.

Stan held an open book in his lap, birds fluttering about on the pages. When he wasn’t looking at the birds, he was looking at Mike, softly plucking the strings of his guitar.

Beverly smiled to herself as she admired her friends. She always thought of herself as the mother of the group, but never turned down an adventure with Bill, or whatever dumb idea Richie had hatched.

Laying back in the hammock, Bev shut her eyes to enjoy the peace. She loved Mike’s singing, his voice soothing and sweet.

The clubhouse hatch swung open, creating the loudest noise known to man.

“Sup, fuckers!”

The hatch is the second loudest noise known to man. Richie is the first.

“Is that my phone?” Stan asked, snapping his book shut and standing up.

“Yes!” Richie held the phone in air triumphantly

“Why do you have my phone?” Stan asked, eyes narrowing with annoyance.

“Fuck you, that’s why!” Richie retorted, no bite in his bark.

_They’re gonna fucking kill each other. I always knew this day would come. Richie was always going to die, but the question on who was going to do the deed was always up for grabs. Eddie? First choice. Stan? Second. Mike? It’s always the quiet ones you should suspect the most. Ben? He’d turn it into something poetic. Bill? He’s already thought of a plan. Me? Fuck yes._

“Beep beep, Richie.” Ben said with a sigh, carefully placing his notebook in his bag, predicting what was about to happen.

Eddie and Bill had made their way down the ladder, eyes wide in anticipation. Eddie was already reaching for something in his pocket. Inhaler? Bev caught the pastel blue colour of his case. That mother fucker was going to record it.

“I’m just messing with you, Stan. Here, you left it in physics.” Richie pouted, trying to pry an apology out of Stan while holding out his phone. As Stan reached for it, Richie snatched it back, cheeky grin placed in his face.

“Nuh uh! You have to apologise!”

“For what, dickweed?”

“For leaving it behind, Staniel!”

“I swear to god, if you don’t give it back…”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll kick you teeth in so hard you’ll be shitting them for days.”

“Be realistic, Stanny. You can’t reach that high.”

That was a bet if Bev had ever heard one. Eddie was recording the whole thing, small smile on his freckled face. Mike had protectively placed his guitar away, inching closer towards Ben who was far away from the action. Bill was hovering behind the hammock, ready to either run in or duck at a moments notice.

Stan then proceeded to kick Richie in the face.

It wasn’t a hard kick, but it did the job of proving Richie wrong, a thing Stan loved to do. Richie stumbled back, purely out of shock. There was no red mark on his face, and his glasses were still on his face.

No one moved for a moment.

Beverly loved this chaotic energy.

“When the actual loving fuck did you get so flexible?” Richie gawked, finally coming to his senses. It wasn’t long before he was smiling broadly again.

“I’m full of hidden talents. Can I just please. Have my phone back.”

“Fine, Stan the Man.” Richie slowly gave back his phone, finally admitting defeat. The phone beeped in his hand, a simultaneous reaction for everyone’s phone.

Bev pulled out her phone, smiling at the lock screen. It was her favourite picture of the losers, on day at the quarry. Soaking wet but smiling brightly, looking forward to the future. Here it is, past losers, here’s the future. Stan running rampant and kicking Richie.

_***Losers Club*** _

**gremlin** : *has shared a video*

_just trash has saved a video_

_Haystack has saved a video_

_Farm Daddy has saved a video_

_mother has saved a video_

_wine aunt has saved a video_

_Dumb?Dumb has saved a video_

The video was just the banter between Richie and Stan, until Stan kicked Richie. Eddie’s voice could be heard saying “Happy Thursday” as Stan kicked Richie.

“Alright, my idiots. Now, can we not hit each other for two seconds?” Beverly spoke up from her hammock, fighting a smile. She loved these losers.

Richie punched Bill in the arm, keeping eye contact with Bev the whole time.

"Ow? What d-d-did I do?" Bill said, lightly rubbing his arm where Richie had punched him.

"Bev said not to hit anyone. I'm a bad boy with a reputation to uphold!"

“You’re a shit, Richie. An actual shit.” Bev rolled her eyes at her best friend.

“Ah yes, keep talking dirty to me, Marsh.”

“You’re dirty enough as it is.”

“Guys?” Eddie’s voiced called out. “I have something to tell you all.”

The rest of the losers sat, watching Eddie intently. He fidgeted like mad, zipping and unzipping his fanny pack.

“I’m failing calculus. And as a result, I need to join the drama club to make up extra credit. Or something.” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, and Bev could practically see the weight coming off his shoulders.

“Was the drama club the only option?” Ben asked curiously.

“I mean, I don’t know. I kind of zoned out on what was going on.” Eddie admitted.

Beverly rose to her feet, abandoning her spot on the hammock and knew Richie had already jumped in it.

“I’ll join the drama club too. I’ve been wanting to explore a more artistic side of myself, anyway.”

“You’ll join with me?” Eddie asked, big brown eyes boring into her own.

“Of course! I can’t let the drama kids corrupt you. I’m looking at you, Ben.”

“I could never corrupt Eddie!” Ben squawked, face flushing red. It was adorable. Not the Bev cared. She didn’t notice the smile he was trying to hide, or the way his eyes gleamed when they met hers.

“I think I’ll join too.” Mike said from his spot on the floor. “I don’t want to miss out on all of this. I could help build sets, and stuff.”

“I guess I’ll have to join to, to keep you losers in line.” Stan said with an eyeroll.

“You just ki-ki-kicked Richie.”

“That was 5 minutes ago, Bill. Keep up.”

The losers dissolved into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight i'm planning on updating every 6 days 
> 
> anyway i'm making mike a musician because i can this is my au and thank you for coming along for the ride i hope you liked it!! 
> 
> next chapter will be from stinky tozier


	3. richie tozier is a punching bag

_**Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier** _

**Kaspbrat** : where the fuck is the drama room

 **Kaspbrat** : am I supposed to speak with Mr Luton first?

 **toes man** : eds bby

 **toes man** : stop panickin

 **toes man** : you know the prefect lounge?

 **Kaspbrat** : yeah

 **toes man** : meet me there

 **toes man** : it’s also where i fucked your mom

 **Kaspbrat** : why are you the worst

 **toes man** : genetics

 **Kaspbrat** : your family are literal angels and you’re a fucking demon

 **toes man** : your mom’s a demon in the sheets

 **Kaspbrat** : I’ll burn you.

 **toes man** : i’m into that!

“Richie! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Eddie’s voice called out. Richie looked up to see Eddie sprinting down the hallway, a look of wrath on his face. Before Richie even had a chance to react, Eddie barrelled into him, knocking them both of balance. While Eddie quickly rolled off the floor and brushed himself off, Richie had no choice but to remain on the floor. He felt winded, but he didn’t want Eddie to know. He’d start panicking, start acting like his mom.

“Richie? Are you alright?”

“What, you think someone as small as you could hurt me? That’s so cute, Eds!”

The hand that Eddie offered out to help Richie up had been snapped back as quickly as Eddie’s expression turned into a scowl.

“Don’t fucking call me Eds. Don’t fucking call me cute.”

“You’re right, I should save all the sweet shit for your mom. She loves some good pillow talk.”

“Ok, I’m done. Beep beep, trashmouth.”

Richie loved riling up Eddie. He was the easiest loser to get a reaction from, and the way his face would turn red would have Richie in stitches.

 _Cute, cute, cute_.

“You don’t want to go to drama? You want to fail calculus?” Richie finally rolled off the floor, trying to ignore the aching sensation in his lungs.

_When did Eddie become a powerhouse? A literal chihuahua of anger. That fucking gremlin._

“Of course not, dipshit. Just… lead the way, I guess.”

***

As soon as Richie stepped into the rehearsal space, he felt lighter. He could often leave his troubles at bay and become a completely different person. Someone confident in their daily lives. Someone he could be proud of.

Over to the side of the auditorium, stood Mr Luton talking to Bev, Mike, and Stan. Richie grabbed hold of Eddie’s wrist, pulling him along. Richie was fully aware that he could’ve used his words, but this seemed more efficient. It’s not like Eddie protested anyway. He was probably in awe of the space, not used to seeing it so empty.

“Lutes! I got another newcomer!” Richie announced as he got closer to the group. “Meet Eddie.”

Eddie offered a small wave, a bit overwhelmed. “Hi, Mr Luton.”

“Hello, Eddie! I’m so glad to have you on board.” Luton’s voice was loud and powerful, but always had this positive quality to it. Ageless. Ben and Bill always forbid Richie from asking how old Luton was, because they were smarter than him. “We were just dividing backstage jobs among you newcomers. Tell us Eddie, what would you like to do?”

“Uh…” Eddie looked at Richie for help, his soft brown eyes screaming for help. They were beautiful eyes, not that Richie cared. Or noticed. Ha. Ahaha.

“Eddie would probably be best in lighting. He’s got a good eye for colours.” Richie smiled, suddenly noticing his hand was still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist. He should’ve let go, but instead gave a small squeeze to reassure him.

“Perfect!” Luton clapped his hands together. “You’re still good to do sound and set design, right Stan?”

Stan nodded, seeming as overwhelmed as Eddie.

_But that fucker kicked me in the face._

_I guess Eddie also bulldozed me, so I can’t hold a grudge against one but no the other._

_I’m just a magnet for pain. We love being a punching bag._

“It’s settled then! Beverly, you’ll be in costumes. Mike, you’ll be on set design and building. Stan, you’ll be on sound and set design. And Eddie, you’ll be on lighting. Now, the rest of you, lets get to it! We’ve got a show to put on!”

***

Read throughs were always Richie’s favourite part of the rehearsal process. Ideas were bounced around and it was often difficult to keep track of who said what, so for once is was refreshing for Richie’s ideas to not got shot down, because someone thought Ben had said it. Eddie and Stan sat on either side of him, and Richie felt some kind of obligation to protect them. Stan had signed up for this on his own accord, but Richie was feeling motherly. So this is how Bev feels.

Bev was sitting with Ben and Mike, with Bill in the middle of the circle taking suggestions and notes.

Bill’s theatrical adaption of Mary Shelly’s _Frankenstein_ was honestly god’s work. Except the end – it seemed so rushed, like Bill couldn’t afford to add another 10 minutes to the play to give it a proper send off.

“So who are you in this, again?” Eddie asked, eyes never leaving his script. He seemed so concentrated on it, absorbing all the information.

“More importantly, do you die?” Stan smirked, finally settling into the atmosphere.

“Fuck you, man. I’m playing the monster-”

“Seems fitting.” Stan continued to smirk.

“I play the monster and I die once, for sure. By the end of the play, I could still be roaming around, being a rascal and killing people’s loved ones.”

“That’s your definition of a rascal, Richie?” Eddie finally looked up at him, amusement dancing across his face.

“And what’s your definition, Eds?”

“You. And don’t call me Eds.”

“Eds. Eds, Eds, Eds. Eds? Eds!”

“I’ll cut your hair while you sleep.”

Richie protectively covered his hair. There were few things he was proud of about himself, and his hair was one of them. 

“Am I really a rascal? Do you think that little of me?” Richie pouted, mock hurt.

“Yes.” Eddie said plainly.

Richie tried to focus on the script in front of him, adding ideas and reading lines when he needed to. But all he wanted to do was have Eddie’s attention on him.

_Cute, cute, cute._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe hoohoo i'm a simp for frankenstein and after performing it last year i thought it'd be a p good play for the losers! 
> 
> enjoy the crumbs of reddie i'm feeding y'all
> 
> next chapter is everyone's favourite baby, m i k e


	4. mike hanlon and his dumb friends

**_Losers Club_ **

**wine aunt:** lets do a fucking

**wine aunt:** a fucking group Halloween costume

**gremlin:** bev are you drunk

**wine aunt:** mmm always my sweet petunia

**Haystack:** What did you have in mind?

**wine aunt:** idk im not fucking smart

**wine aunt:** that being said I can beat ALL of you up

**wine aunt:** even mike.

**wine aunt:** mike will you fight me

**Farm Daddy:** Maybe

**wine aunt:** would you let me win

**Farm Daddy:** Yes

**wine aunt:** then fight me

**Farm Daddy:** Do I have everyone’s permission to fight Bev?

**Haystack:** Yes

**gremlin:** yes

**just trash:** yes

**mother:** NO

**Dumb?Dumb:** yes

**Farm Daddy:** It’s unanimous

**Farm Daddy:** Bev wins

**wine aunt:** as it should be

**mother:** I hate you all. All the time. Constantly.

**wine aunt:** thank you babey stan. we stan you.

**Dumb?Dumb:** babey stan. so small.

**gremlin:** the smallest.

**just trash:** eddie no that’s you

**gremlin:** step on lego, Richie

**Haystack:** Y’all we were talking about costumes

**Dumb?Dumb:** costumes!

**Haystack:** For Halloween

**Dumb?Dumb:** Halloween!

**Farm Daddy:** 7 dwarves from snow white

**mother:** The seven sins

**gremlin:** mario party characters

**just trash:** sexy mario party characters

**Dumb?Dumb:** sexy mario party characters

**just trash:** i dibs waluigi

**gremlin:** but he’s already so sexy yummo

**wine aunt:** I’m bowser or Yoshi there’s no in-between

**wine aunt:** GUYS

**wine aunt:** BOWSER IS ALMOST THE SAME AS BOWERS

**Dumb?Dumb:** wow that’s crazy

**Dumb?Dumb:** Stan will you be the luigi to my mario

**mother:** Do I even have a choice?

**Dumb?Dumb:** no

**mother:** I’m going as Luigi, fools.

**Haystack:** I’m going as god

**Haystack:** *toad

**Haystack:** I want to be sexy toad

**just trash:** Ben is god pass it on

**wine aunt:** he wanna be sexy god oop

**Farm Daddy:** No printer, just fax

**gremlin:** Mike, you know what this means?

**Farm Daddy:** I’m scared

**gremlin:** I’m daisy and you’re peach

**Farm Daddy:** I am both excited and scared

**just trash:** no one

**just trash:** mike: mark me down as scared and horny!

**gremlin:** ripe for picking

**Farm Daddy:** what

**gremlin:** what

**Dumb?Dumb:** what

**_Richie, Mike_ **

**Richardo:** miiiiiiiiii

**Richardo:** keeeee

**Micycle:** ‘ello

**Richardo:** im boooooored

**Micycle:** Hi bored, I’m dad

**Richardo:** ahshxaschsd

**Richardo:** can I come over

**Richardo:** i’ll bring my guitar

**Micycle:**!!!!

**Micycle:** Of course you froggy!

**Richardo:** cool i’m at your house now

**Micycle:** What?

**Richardo:** let me in

And sure enough, Mike could hear a soft knocking at the door.

Mike practically ran for the door, opening it in a huge dramatic movement. Richie stood on the other side, guitar case in one hand and a note pad in the other.

“Jesus, Mike! You’ll rip the door of it’s hinges!” Richie said jokingly as he entered into Mike’s living room.

“Sorry it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Mike said as he led Richie into his room.

It’s not like Mike’s room was anything special, but it was practical. Mostly tidy. A few strewn magazines littered the floor, pictures of the loser's club hung above his navy blue bed. However whenever any loser came over, especially Richie, his room ended up looking like the aftermath of a bomb explosion.

Bev had strung fairy lights on the ceiling, and all the losers had chipped in to buy a guitar for Mike’s 15th birthday which stood proudly in the corner.

“I thought maybe we could… write some songs?” Richie guested to Mike’s guitar. “I mean, only if you want to. I’ve just got a lot of inspiration at the moment.”

“Yeah, sure man. What’s the inspiration from?” Mike asked as he grabbed his guitar, playing a few chords to make sure it was tuned.

Richie fell down on Mike’s bed, careful of his own guitar. “I mean, I guess some things have come to light recently. You know how you’re so used to looking at some... something a certain way, and then one day it just changes? Like BAM you thought wrong, dumb ass. Get schooled.”

“Anything in particular?” Mike questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Mike caught the slight pink tinge to Richie’s cheeks. _Click._

“Any… one in particular?”

“No, it’s – never mind, it’s dumb. Forget about it.”

“Aw, come on, Richie. You can tell my anything, you know that, right?”

“Of course, Mikey. I know. And I love you for it.”

“I love you too, trashmouth. So are we going to play something or what?”

***

_I get scared too easily_

_Oh, I get scared_

_And I just want to confide in you._

_But I know it’s not that simple_

_Truths are always meant to my lies_

_I’m positive I’d rather die_

_Then be caught catching your eye_

_I’ve been hiding behind masks all my life_

_And you don't ever take those rose-coloured glasses off_

_Keep this sunken face hidden,_

_While the world covers you up_

_Do you want to see me?_

_Should I try to see you?_

_Would you really like the real me?_

_I'm too loud, can't shut up_

_Oh, I'm too loud,_

_But you never seemed to care_

_I scream and shout and cry it out_

_But there's always hands on your ears_

_And I'm positive I'd rather die_

_Then be caught making you cry_

_I’ve been hiding behind masks all my life_

_And you don't ever take those rose-coloured glasses off_

_Keep this sunken face hidden,_

_While the world covers you up_

_Do you want to see me?_

_Should I try to see you?_

_Would you really like the real me?_

_Oh, paint me pink_

_Paint me yellow or blue_

_Paint me in anything_

_That might let you see me_

_Paint me in orange_

_Paint me green and red_

_Paint me anything_

_That might let you see me!_

_I’ve been hiding behind masks all my life_

_And you don't ever take those rose-coloured glasses off_

_Keep this sunken face hidden,_

_While the world covers you up_

_Do you want to see me?_

_Should I try to see you?_

_Would you really like the real me?_

_Would you really like the real me?_

_Would you like to know the real me?_

Mike felt confident that he and Richie had just made an absolute bop. Richie had written the lyrics and the melody line with some inputs from Mike, and Mike had handled the chords and a harmony line. They would often switch it around, but this song seemed so important to Richie that he let him have the wheel.

“Hey, Mike?” Richie asked, his hands restless in his lap.

“You ok, man?”

“I… I need to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Do you promise you won’t hate me? Or hurt me?”

“Richie, I could never hurt you. But whatever you want to say seems to be giving you a lot of stress. I’m here for you, al-”

“I’m gay.”

Mike sat on the edge of his bed in silence, waiting for Richie to come out and say more. Maybe a, _ha, I got ya! October fools!._ But nothing like that happened. Richie looked at him through his thick-rimmed glasses, desperate eyes amplified. Derry didn't have anything close to acceptance, and Mike knew what it was like to be on the outcast side. 

Which was why Richie needed his support. And damn, was Mike good at being a friend.

“I still love you, Richie. And the rest of the losers will. And while Derry is a shit hole, the rest of the world isn’t stuck in the 80’s and will support you and love you.”

Richie smiled, and leapt across the bed to give Mike a hug. While Richie might be all legs and arms, Mike was proportioned correctly, if a little muscly, and was a good size for hugging which all the losers constantly took advantage of. And Mike was never opposed.

“Thanks, man. I love you too.”

“So, what are the lyrics about, Richie? Some secret crush?”

Richie blushed a deep red, a nervous giggle escaping his chapped lips.

“No sir, not me! I’m a good Christian boy! No crushes!”

“Sure, ‘Chee. Sure.”

And oh, what a thrill it was to receive Derry's acceptance - on three whole separate occasions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'll set myself a particular updating schedule so i can focus on other things!   
> also me: hnnng lemme wrITE and update like a mad man
> 
> anyway did i write a while ass song for this chapter?? yeh  
> can i sing?? vruoev no
> 
> so until i know exactly what route i want to take with the stanlonbrough trio, there will just be crumbs of a love triangle. i'm leaning towards stanlon, just because it's the least common and i'm: soft for it, but nothing's set in stone.
> 
> thanks for reading, lemme know what you think!


	5. stan uris is shown the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone, I'm sorry for the late update. I debated about whether or not I should publish this chapter, but in the end I did. here it is. i also had a different direction for Stan's story line, but i've changed it. 
> 
> you know how i said i wouldn't do angst? oops, i lied. 
> 
> trigger warning by Mike being abused for being black. it's not ok, it's never ok. say their names.

To put it simply, Stan was not a theatre kid. It was hard enough to do a presentation in front of the class, and that was mandatory – but choosing to do it? In front of a live audience? He never understood the appeal, and why people would willingly let themselves be vulnerable.

But as he watched Ben on stage, breaking down from his character’s hubris, he found new respect for the art. Stan was captivated by the performance, unable to see Ben under the powerful façade that was known as Victor Frankenstein.

Stan sat next to Mike in the third row of the theatre, empty notebook laying in his lap. He was supposed to be taking notes, listing props needed and possible set design choices that would enhance the performance, but all that was long forgotten. Stan was so immersed in Ben’s performance that he completely missed Mike trying to grab his attention until he felt his warm hand on his upper arm.

“Stan? You doing good there?” Mike said, smooth voice full of concern. Stan was once again captivated.

“Mm? Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just never really understood theatre, I guess. I always thought it was…”

“Too scary?”

“Yeah, that. I’m glad I’m on this side of the stage.”

“Me too. I’m pretty excited to work with you! As long as you don’t make all the props about birds.

“Oops, too late.”

“Oh come on. No birds.

“But-”

“No birds.”

Stan rolled his eyes as Mike lightly laughed.

“What about… seven birds?”

“Fine, fine. But only seven.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, arms brushing lightly whenever Mike added notes to his design book. Hearing approaching footsteps, Stan turned around to see Eddie walking down from the lighting desk to the audience.

“What are you guys talking about?” Eddie asked, hovering in the isle.

“Not much, just how daunting theatre is.” Mike offered.

“Fuck, I’ll say. Richie’s dumber than I thought.” Eddie let out a small laugh, eyes darting from the stage to Stan and Mike.

“Are you doing ok there, Eddie?”

“Yep. We’re vibing. Stan, could you come help me in the lighting desk?”

“Huh? I-” Stan tried to protest, but Eddie was nothing if not persistent.

“Please? I need your opinion on something.”

“Geez, fine. I’ll be back later Mike, ok?”

“I’ll still be here!” Mike smiled.

Eddie quickly ran up the isle of the theatre, and bolted up the stairs to the lighting desk. Stan trailed behind, already feeling out of breath from the sheer amount of stairs.

“Al-alright.” Stan panted when he finally got up to the desk. “This… this better be good.”

“I just wanted to show you something. Come on, have a look at this!” Eddie pointed to a microphone in the middle of the lighting desk and sound control box.

“It’s a fucking microphone. If that’s what you brought me up here for, I swear, Eddie, I’ll-”

Eddie flipped a switch on the sound control box, and the mic created a low buzzing sound. He leaned in closer to the mic, an evil smirk on his face.

“Richard Tozier is 19 and never fucking learned how to read.”

Eddie’s voice echoed around the theatre, startling everyone on stage and off.

“I’m 18, asshole.” Richie yelled back, and even from way up Stan could see the slight blush in his cheeks. And Stan doubted it was from embarrassment.

“But can you read?”

“No!”

Ben let out a playful gasp next to him, hands covering his face in mock shock.

“But… Richard! You have to read! We can’t be betrothed if you can’t read!” Ben cried out jokingly.

“I’m sorry, my love. You’ll have to find someone capable of reading. I simply cannot vibe with the words.” Richie held his hand over his heart and fell dramatically to the ground. Everyone was laughing, but the loudest laugh of all came from Mike, head held back and a bright, beautiful smile on his face.

Eddie flipped off the microphone and turned back to Stan, his tiny hands held in fists on his hips.

“And they all say Richie’s the funny guy of the group.”

“Yep, you sure showed them, Eddie.”

“Anyway, what do you think about this colour combination for the creation scene?”

***

The theatre was empty, a haunting feeling hanging over the vacant seats.

Mike jogged up and down the isle of red chairs as Stan quickly packed his school stuff up and shoved into his backpack.

“I’m done now, you ready to go?” Stan called out.

Mike ran up to him and scooped his own bag up.

“I was waiting for you!”

They walked out of the auditorium together, recounting events of the day and talking about possible backdrops for the play. Stan felt light, arms swinging by his side as Mike walked backwards beside him, a spring in his step. Mike never noticed Henry and Patrick up ahead, and Stan’s voice was caught in his throat the minute he saw them.

“What is it? Stan, are you ok?”

No. Stan was not ok.

Henry came up behind Mike and pushed him against a nearby tree. Stan began to run to Mike to help, but Patrick had grabbed Stan’s shoulders and wrists, holding him in place. Stan struggled against Patrick as Henry spat in Mike’s face.

“Are you sure you didn’t burn in that fire with your parents? It’s not natural to be that dark. Must’ve been burnt.” Henry said as he further pushed Mike against the tree.

“Fuck you.” Mike narrowed his eyes, trying to gain his footing as he was lifted further up the tree. Stan could see the panic in his eyes, but Patrick held a strong grip on him. He was helpless.

Henry only smirked as he pulled a knife out of his back pocket. Mike struggled against him, desperately trying to free himself. Henry held the blade up to Mike’s throat, pressing down hard enough for Mike to start choking. Patrick’s grip on Stan’s wrist drew tighter as Stan tried to run to Mike. All he could do was scream as Mike suffered.

“Go back to your home town, midnight.” Henry pushed Mike down onto his knees, and as Mike looked up Henry slashed Mike’s cheek with the knife. Henry must’ve got bored for the day as he signalled Patrick to let go of Stan and follow him as they left laughing at their cruel actions.

Mike stayed down on the dirt, hands slowly inching up to cover his cheeks. Stan stood there, paralysed. He knew Mike had been involved with Henry before, but he’d never seen it. He’d never seen Mike look so scared. Mike was always the one who protected the losers club, and when Mike needed it the most Stan couldn’t protect him. It was like seeing your favourite superhero get beaten by the villain, except you were right next to the hero and there was nothing you could do.

“Mike?” Stan breathed out, kneeling down and placing his hand on Mike’s perfectly still shoulder.

“I think… I think you need to leave now. Go, Stan.” Mike spoke without moving, without so much a tremble or a blink.

“I’m not going anywhere. Can you get up? Let me take you home.”

Mike didn’t answer.

“Mike? Can you hear me? Are you ok?”

Mike pulled his blood-soaked hand away from his cut cheek, wincing ever so slightly.

“Mike?”

“You’ve never seen this before, have you?”

“What, Henry threatening you? No, I haven’t. And I’m so sorry, Mike.”

“But it’s always happened. It doesn’t even matter that I’m light skinned – I’m an abomination in their eyes.”

“Mike, you know that’s not true.”

“Do I? I could be killed for the colour of my skin. I’ll never have the same treatment as you guys, I‘ll never get the same opportunities. And it’s not fair! Henry and Patrick can get away with that because they’re _white_ , but if I ever stood up for myself I’d be arrested, or assaulted, or… or…”

Mike had broken down, shoulders shaking and tears building in his eyes that stared off into the distance. Blood trickled down his cheek and stained his grey shirt red. He looked so alone and afraid, and Stan had no idea what to do. He felt an unjust rage burning in his stomach, like someone had lit a thousand fireworks.

Stan held Mike tightly as if Mike were falling apart physically. He could feel his shirt getting soggy from both blood and tears, but he didn’t care. He only cared about his friend. Making sure he was alright. Making sure he knew he was loved.

Stan would get to making Henry and Patrick pay another time.


	6. Bill Denbrough is awkward

“Billllll”

_Sh… shut up._

“Bill, wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

_I’m gonna fucking kill him._

“Bill, I’ll break down the door!”

Bill reluctantly rolled out of bed, ready to tear into Georgie who would just _not_ shut up. Ripping open his bedroom door harshly, Bill was greeted by a snickering Georgie.

“Nice boxer shorts. Didn’t know you had a thing for clowns.”

“F-f-fuck off. What d-do you want, an-anyway?”

“It’s 11am. You promised you’d drive me down to the court, dummy.”

“When d-do you ha-ha-have to be there?”

“Now?”

Bill rolls his eyes, about to make up an excuse so he can crawl back into bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sick or something. The last time you used that excuse and sent me out I gave myself a concussion.”

“H-how was I supposed t-t-to know you’d run into a s-s-s-sign?!”

“Put some clothes on, Billy. And please drive me down? You promised!”

“F-fine.”

***

The basketball court was next to a small shopping centre, new enough do not look abandoned like everything else in this town, but old enough that people didn’t crowd around, filling up the car parks and eateries inside.

Georgie haphazardly jumped out of the car, grabbing his bag from the backseat and swinging it around his shoulder.

“T-text me wh-wh-when you’re done, y-yeah?”

“Okie-dokie, Billy, catch you later!”

Left alone in an almost empty carpark, Bill decided to waste away in the mall. Maybe he might get a coffee out of it.

The mall wasn’t anything to special, with a simple food court of McDonalds and Burger King, and a Subway if you felt like eating dirty lettuce. A jewellery store, a couple of clothing stores all surrounded a movie theatre, with a cute little 50’s dinner out front. Bill didn’t know how long Georgie was meant to be, and a milkshake sounded like a fantastic idea.

Bill ordered a honeycomb milkshake and took a seat at one of the plush barstools that overlooked the kitchen. He tapped his fingers to the old jingle that was playing, staring blankly ahead.

“Hey, stranger. Is this seat taken?”

Bill turned to see a cute little smile on an even cuter face.

“Hey, Bev. G-go right ahead.”

Beverly sits herself down and grabs a menu.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“G-g-georgie’s in the c-court next door. What are y-you doing?”

“Ah, I’m just looking for some jobs. The thrift store here is hiring, so is the cinema.”

“Go for the c-ci-cinema.”

“Why’s that?” Beverly lets out a little laugh, fidgeting with the menu in front of her.

“Discounts.”

“Discounts? Is that all I am to you, a way to save money?” She teases, eyes ablaze with mischief.

“Well, M-m-mike is the only one with a p-permanent j-j-job! And Ri-riche’s got that g-g-gig in the Summer. We need m-more club m-money!”

“Of course, how could I not think about the club!”

Bill smiles at Beverly, and waits for the butterflies to start fluttering in his stomach. But they never come. They fall silent, reaching for something to say. They were good friends, it shouldn’t feel this awkward.

“So did you hear-”

“N-new movie coming-”

They spoke over each other, pausing at the same time to let the other one speak.

“God, sorry. You go first.”

“N-no, it was d-d-dumb.”

They fall into silence again, Beverly fidgeting with the menu and Bill tapping his fingers against the counter-top.

A waiter approaches with Bill’s milkshake and takes Beverly’s order, placing the drink down gently on a coaster. Bill stares intently at the shake, trying to come up with something to say. Anything to say. But what are you supposed to say to your ex-girlfriend, who’s also one of your best friends?

“How are you feeling? Stressed about the play?” She queries, offering a small smile.

“I’m st-st-stressed out of my m-mind! This is my f-first chance to p-p-prove myself as m-more than just th-that weird wr-writer kid.”

“I mean, it looks absolutely fantastic, and we’ve only just begun! Thanks for letting me help out.”

“I w-wouldn’t want anyone else handling m-my c-c-costumes.”

Beverly smiles sweetly as the waiter returns with a bowl of nachos and a small coke.

“N-now, you’re going to share those, r-right?”

“No way, Bill! I got these for me!”

“B-but-”

“No ‘buts’ Denbrough, these are mine!”

They laughed and talked about everything and anything, just something to fill the space between them. Politely laughing turned into genuine laughter as they recounted all the dumb things they used to do, all the pranks they would pull on each other and their fondest memories of the loser’s club.

Bill did end up stealing some of Beverly’s nachos, which prompted her to drink some of his shake. Sharing, laughing and teasing – just like the old times.

**_Georgie, Bill_ **

**Buzz:** mom come pick me up I’m scared

 **Woody:** stay scared for one more minute

 **Buzz:** mom the kids are doing laps for fun

 **Buzz:** I’M SCARED

“G-georgie wants m-me to p-p-pick him up now, d-do you need a l-lift?”

“Nah, it’s ok. Richie’s going to pick me up in a little bit, and I need to do some Halloween shopping. Thanks anyway.”

“N-no problem!”

“Mind if I come say hi to Georgie?”

“N-n-not at all!”

***

Georgie is waiting for them by Bill’s car, face red from exhaustion and sweat stains on his shirt. His eyes go wide as he sees Beverly approach and he frantically tries to make him self look presentable. He fails.

“Bev! Wow, it’s been so long! How are you?”

“Oh, I’m great. How are you?”

“Same old, same old. Hitting the gym, working hard, making lots of money.”

“Oh, really?” Beverly questions, looking at Bill was a mock accusatory face.

“Yep, sure am. You coming home with us?”

“No, not today. I’ve got some Halloween shopping to do.”

“Ah, too bad.”

“Yeah… I’ll see you around, I guess?” She turns to Bill and hugs him tightly. “Bye, Bill. We should hang out more often – I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve m-missed you too.”

Beverly lets go and walks away, heading back inside the mall.

“D-do not tell m-me you like _Bev_.”

“What, she’s cute!”

“And w-way older than you! And sh-she’s my ex!”

“Maybe she didn’t date the right Denbrough.”

“S-shut up and get in the c-car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my theory is that the entire IT franchise happened inside Georgie's since he got knocked unconscious by the roadwork sign thingy he runs into in the opening credits. Change my mind. 
> 
> also v sorry that this chapter isn't the best but i hope bill and georgie interacting will suffice. 
> 
> next is uuuuh ben because he's the only one left! it's poem boy time babey


	7. Ben Hanscom is a bit sweaty

**_Ben, Richie_ **

**Benvolio:** Yo rehearsal started 10 minutes ago are you coming or what?

**Romeo:** ye

**Romeo:** ran into some trouble with armstrong

**Benvolio:** Again?

**Romeo:** ye

**Benvolio:** Bill’s decided to do some measuring and costume stuff right now

**Romeo:** is it because of me

**Benvolio:** ahaha

**Benvolio:** Yeah

**Romeo:** fuck

**Romeo:** tell everyone I’m sworry

**Benvolio:** Bev and Eddie simultaneously said they’ll kill you

**Romeo:** no better threesome

**Benvolio:** RICHIE

**Romeo:** is it because I said I’m sworry

**Benvolio:** Uwu! Just hurry up and get here pwease!

“Alright Ben, ready to be measured?” Beverly asked, approaching him with some measuring tape and a notebook. She was smiling so sweetly, and normally Ben would feel some butterflies in his stomach – it was no secret that he had a crush on her.

But instead of butterflies, Ben had dragons in his stomach, clawing away and breathing fire everywhere. He was suddenly conscious of his skin sticking to his shirt, suffocating under the material that felt too tight on his body. It’d been years since he’d taken off his shirt in front of someone, and he’d always gotten away with using old costumes that didn’t need to be fitted on him properly in previous plays. But the school didn’t have Victorian-styled clothes so they needed to be made or ordered by Beverly.

Beverly who Ben was kind of in love with.

Beverly who was standing in front of him with a measuring tape.

Beverly who hadn’t seen Ben’s bare chest since they were 13.

Beverly who was waiting for a response, one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t worry, we’re only measuring for jackets and shirts. We’re just using whatever pants we can find – high school budgets and all that. So, if you’ll follow me to the green room?” She asked kindly, turning to walk towards the green room which was left of the main stage.

“I’M HERE” Richie yelled out, yanking the theatre door open so hard it almost came off its hinges. He was out of breath, and Ben took this moment to recover his while everyone was distracted. Inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4. Repeat 4 times.

“Where the hell have you been?” Eddie yelled from the lighting desk.

“Just some issues with Armstrong, it’s no big deal, Eds!” Richie yelled back, walking through the isle so he could see Eddie.

“The fuck did you do?”

“Hey, none of that language, Spaghetti!”

“Die.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

“I’m gagging. I’m gonna be sick.”

Ben let out a quite laugh, and followed Beverly into the green room.

The green room wasn’t anything special, the main thing was that it wasn’t green. Two doors that lead outside, a sliding wardrobe on one wall with mirrors on it, a girls change room and a boys change room with their own toilets tucked away, and a large, worn couch in the middle with an old wooden coffee table.

“Alright, Bear – arms out.” Beverly said, pulling the tape tight and stepping closer to him.

“I don’t need to take off my shirt?” Ben asked hesitantly, the tightness in his throat losing. 

“If you could take off your hoodie, that’d be great – but your shirt’s fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Ben pulled off his hoodie, hoping that the sweat marks weren’t noticeable on his shirt. How red was his face? Did he smell bad? What was Beverly thinking? Was she disgusted? Did she even care?

Ben stood still, following Beverly’s requests. Arms out, stand straight, lower, don’t forget to breathe, don’t suck in your tummy.

“Alright, we’re done! Are you feeling ok? You’re looking a little pale.” Beverly said, worry painting her delicate features.

“It’s uh… it’s nothing, Bev. Just dehydrated, I guess.”

“You sure? You know I’m here to talk to you about anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’ve just been stressed lately. Thinking about colleges, finding a job, this play, school work, myself – you know, the usual.”

Beverly let out a light laugh, sympathising with him. Ben loved to make her laugh, seeing her happy. She deserved to be happy after everything she’d been through with her abusive and manipulative dad, and Ben was more than glad to be the one to put a smile on her face. Even if he felt really bad about himself at that point.

“Yeah, I get that. Are you doing anything Friday night? Maybe we could vent together over some Ben and Jerry’s?” Beverly asked, handing Ben his hoodie.

Ben gingerly took back the hoodie, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest at her words.

“Just us?” He asked cautiously.

“Yeah, I feel like we haven’t talked one on one in ages! Just us.”

“Ok, sure! I’ll bring some ice cream then.”

They finished up, and Ben headed back out to the auditorium. Stan and Mike hovered over a planning book up on stage, pointing out were they wanted sets and props. Bill was talking to some of the cast about how he wanted scenes to go, and Eddie was up in the lighting booth, finger clicking to no one in particular.

Ben went over to Bill, joining in on the conversation.

“Ben! Holy shit, you do have arms!” Richie cried. Ben still held his hoodie in his hands, completely forgetting to put it back on. But maybe he didn’t need to – it was too hot for the thick fabric. And his arms were just fine. He was just fine. He was more than fine – he was great.

“Richie, s-s-seriously? Can you j-just be quiet for t-two s-seconds?” Bill exclaimed, massaging his temple.

“No, I cannot.” Richie jeered back.

“Ah, that’s my husband – illiterate and immature.” Ben

Richie smiled; “And baby!”

“And baby.” Ben repeated.

“Ben and Betty, as V-Victor and Elizabeth, are y-you two comfortable d-d-doing a stage k-kiss?” Bill interrupted in a desperate attempt to turn the conversation back the play. And Ben wasn’t sure he liked this direction.

He was a senior, but he still hadn’t had his first kiss. He definitely didn’t want his first kiss to be a stage kiss. Call him picky, call him a romantic, but Ben had standards. Not that Betty wasn’t pretty, but he wanted his first kiss to be with someone who wanted to kiss him for him, not just because they had to have a role. He also wanted it to be with someone he actually liked, but that was Beverly and Ben wasn’t sure he really wanted to ruin their friendship over his feelings. He knew what happened between Beverly and Bill, and how they’re still awkward around each other even though they broke up in junior year.

“Is it… uh… necessary?” Ben questioned, feeling his cheeks heat up yet again.

“N-no, of course not! It’s j-just in the ori-ri-rignal script. We d-don’t have to h-have it.” Bill explained, and Ben could feel the tension drop from his shoulders.

“Only want to kiss me, Benny boy?” Richie closed his eyes and puckered up his lips, making kissy sounds as he drew closer to Ben.

“Not today, husband. You’re very smelly.” Ben lightly pushed Richie away. “Now, let’s treat you horribly.”

Ben found it easy to become a new character on the stage. Not only was it fun to pretend to be someone else, it was almost therapeutic. Channelling the character’s fears and insecurities made his own seem possible to overcome. Victor was a man riddled with hubris and greed, and Ben was far better than that. Victor’s biggest problem was the fact that he could never take responsibility for his terrible actions, and Ben’s was that he was self-conscious. Take a little bit of Victor’s pride, take that as self-confidence. Just for a minute, pretend you are someone else. 

Learn from your character’s mistakes. Never neglect the ones you love. Don’t let greed and pride lead you to your demise. Take ownership of wrong doings. Don’t build a man. Don’t be ashamed to ask for help.

Don’t let looks fool you. Don’t let looks consume. You’re more than what you look like. It’s how you act and treat others that are important. 

Ben never understood how people could be their 'true self' on stage - you're meant to be someone else. But he did understand how they became more confident, more alive, more free. He was feeling that right now as he said his first line to the almost empty auditorium. He was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of turned into a hype speech at the end there, huh? oops. anyway love yourself ok?? no matter what you look like. you're all beautiful and handsome and appreciated 
> 
> thank y'all for reading!! 7 chapters done and i love you all for coming on this journey with me!! i'm not finished, dw! it's just a milestone for me to write from all the loser's perspectives. it's also shown me that writing from 7 different points of views is the worse but i'm gonna keep it up because i'm a stubborn bitch
> 
> ALSO i'm thinking about writing a new au in a lil bit, i've got a couple ideas such as a mythical au (from eddie's perspective only), an apocalypse au (from all the losers for plot reasons) and a fix-it fic for chapter 2 (probably done from richie's perspective)  
> if you want, lemme know if that's something you'd be interested in reading!!
> 
> thank you again i am v grateful for y'all xx


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